


Some are born great...

by lheadley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Bromance with some angst, Fluff, M/M, Only very slight references to slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:30:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lheadley/pseuds/lheadley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was fed up of his best friend ignoring him, and prioritising his relationship. Where was the bromance, goddamit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some are born great...

Scott lay on his bed, looking morosely at the growing and then retracting claws of his hand as he repeatedly morphed in and out of wolf mode. It was a way of practicing control, and a way of killing time. There were only so many chin ups even a werewolf could stand to do. It was dark outside, not that it mattered with the wolf vision. The regular alternation between the gloom of his unlit bedroom through human eyes and the clarity of his bedroom through wolf vision was somewhat hypnotic. A random memory surfaced. When he was little he had had a phase of turning lights on and off repeatedly, and the alternating vision thing was a lot like that. Like a lot of kids Scott had been fascinated by light switches and how they worked, and when he had been tall enough to reach the light switch by the stairs he had been very proud. But it had irritated his dad. A black eye later and Scott had stopped switching lights on and off.

It was Saturday evening, really Saturday night by now. Scott had worked the afternoon at Deaton’s, and then toiled his way through an English essay – every two paragraphs he wrote he rewarded himself by checking either his text messages or Facebook - but only one or the other of them, never both. That way, if there was no message on one, he could keep hope alive that there would be a message waiting on the other when he checked that later. Just in case Allison had been in contact. Or in case Stiles had managed to reply to the three text messages Scott had sent to him today, even if it was just a two letter reply. Or an emoticon. Scott would have settled for an emoticon from Stiles. But neither Stiles nor Allison had been in contact. Some of the paragraphs Scott had written in his English essay were suspiciously short – he was going to have to find a better way to manage his neediness. So, Scott was alone, in his room, on a Saturday night, homework done, his mother working late on a double shift. He had stopped by to drop off dinner for her earlier, a routine that he had fallen into in recent weeks, trying to make her life easier. She had assumed he was angling to get the car that evening, and had voluntarily offered the keys – surprised when he had shrugged and said he was staying in.

Scott was staying in because no one wanted to be with him. Actually that was not entirely true. Isaac had offered to hang out with him, and Danny had taken pity on him after lacrosse practice on Friday and asked him if he wanted to come clubbing tonight, making it clear in the nicest possible way that it was just as friends. But Scott had said no. Just in case… But “in case” hadn’t happened. And Scott wanted to wallow in his misery anyway – like poking at a bruise (or like poking at a bruise used to be, pre werewolf healing) to make sure that it still hurt as much as you thought it did. 

There was a noise from downstairs. A soft clanking of metal, and someone swearing. Scott had not been in wolf form, so had not particularly been focusing. He sat up. A scrabbling noise was now audible outside his bedroom window. Quietly Scott pulled himself off the bed, and reached blindly underneath for the baseball bat. He moved to the window just as a dark form silhouetted against the night sky. There was a fumbling sound, the window slid open, and the form toppled forwards onto the carpet with a certain, familiar lack of grace.

“Owwww.” Stiles was complaining theatrically, without any real pain behind the sound. Scott knew full well what the sound of Stiles in pain was like, and it was nothing like that. Stiles turned with a glower to look at the window ledge that had been his downfall, literally, and caught sight of Scott in the shadows, now lowering the baseball bat.

“Gaaaaaaaaah”. Scott could hear the elevated heart rate.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing? And what is with the baseball bat? And what is with the chaining up of the front door for that matter?”

Scott looked down, with what he hoped was a slightly sullen expression on his face. “I heard an intruder, and I was right, there was an intruder. And I have a baseball bat because I don’t go wolfing out in front of random burglars, because that would require explanations. And my mum wants the door chained up at all times. She has been having a hard time since Gerard came in and set a Kanima on her. I unchain it before she comes off her shift. ”

Stiles pushed himself up from the floor – not exactly a fluid motion. “Fair enough. I thought you’d barred your doors against me.”

“You’d deserve it” Scott muttered under his breath, looking down at the floor. Stiles did not seem to hear, though it was always hard to tell with Stiles. He could be reacting to something that had been said, he could be reacting to a random thought, or he could be going through a nervous twitch. Even Scott had difficulty distinguishing. “What do you want, Stiles?”

“I can’t just stop by to see my best friend once in a while?”

“You can. But what do you want with me?” Scott realised that he was shifting from cold dignity into petulance but he could feel the emotions pushing him. Full moon was only three days away, and he was in an emotionally charged state to begin with.

“Whoa, dude. What the hell is the matter with you?”

Scott did not believe Stiles could be that oblivious. Stiles was never that oblivious. Noticing things was kind of his forte. “You know.”

“Yeah, well, clearly I don’t know.”

“I can hear it when you lie, Stiles. You haven’t been round for, what, a week?” It had been four days, and Scott knew full well it had been four days, but he was not going to let Stiles know. “I only ever get to talk to you in school, and barely then. You disappeared straight after lacrosse, you blew me out three times this week, twice without bothering to text until an hour after we were supposed to meet up, you… you know what? I don’t care. You have your reasons, I know. Just get what you want and head back to Derek.”

“Hold on.” Stiles had two flushed spots of red, high on his cheeks, which were always a signal that he was angry – really angry. Scott had seen Stiles like this several times over the years, but rarely directed at him. “Hold on, you are angry with ME, because I am in a relationship and spending some time with that person? Can I remind you, Scott McCall, how many times you blew me out when you were dating Allison? Putting the phone down on me in life threatening situations? When being pursued by a Kanima while trying to keep myself and Derek alive? The pool? Remember that whole debacle?”

“You know I was not WITH Allison, not like that. I put the phone down because I was raiding Gerard’s safe when you called. I thought you were OK, you weren’t supposed to be running into danger. I do everything I can to keep you from danger. And I came to find you as soon as I could. Anyway, it was different with me and Allison.”

“How exactly was it different, Scott? How? Was it different because you never bothered to text when you bailed on me? Was it different because even if I did see you in school you could only talk of Allison? Was it different because you kept me in the dark about that plan you and Deaton cooked up to get Gerard, even while the old guy was beating the crap out of me in his cellar?” Stiles was panting, waving his arms around energetically to emphasise each point, before scrubbing his hands up and down in his hair in angry frustration. Stiles kept forgetting that he no longer had a buzz cut, and the result would have been slightly comic in different circumstances.

“You know I didn’t tell you to keep you safe. I did not want you to be a target for Gerard. And even with that he still targeted you…” Scott tailed off, his mind invaded with dark thoughts of what might have happened. The way Gerard had gone after precisely the people he loved: the direct threat against his mum; turning Allison into a warped version of herself; attacking Stiles then releasing him as warning to Scott of what he could do.”

“Yeah, well… it is no different to what I had to put up with when you started seeing Allison. I thought you would be happy for me. A best friend would be happy for me. But whatever. I’ll collect my economics text book and won’t bother you again.”

“It is totally different. You know it is totally different.” Scott was muttering, in a mulish tone, torn between anger at Stiles, and a longing to talk to him. Stiles had to know why it was so different, Scott should not have to spell it out.

“Really, buddy?” The ‘buddy’ was spat out. “Really? Because from where I am standing you are a hypocrite.”

“You know why it is different. You know I need you more than you need me. You knew, even when I was with Allison” Scott mentally winced as the memories of the early days came flooding “even when I was with her I needed you. I could never have survived five minutes without you. You guided me through everything, the werewolf crap, the high school crap, the stuff with Allison. You always charge right ahead and do what you want and don’t care what everyone else thinks but for some of us that kind of confidence is impossible. Even if I was too wrapped up in my relationship” another mental wince “you knew I would always be there for you, that I was going to lean on you, because you are the only friend I properly have. You make friends all the time, hell, thirty seconds in Jungle and every drag queen in the place is all over you. Everyone likes you even if they think you are weird, or whatever. I only have you, and I don’t know why you hang around with me. And I can sense you leaving, I can sense you wanting to leave. You’ll join Derek’s pack, and run off into the sunset with him and forget about me.”

Scott knew he was sounding pathetic, but it was as if everything he had bottled up inside of him for the past two months was bursting out. His voice had steadily risen in volume, and now he was shouting.

“So, yeah, you know what, it is different. You ALWAYS knew I would be around, no matter what happened with Allison. I don’t know that about you. Derek is taking you away from me. Perhaps it is better we do it as a clean break. Don’t drag it out. Your text book is on the desk. Have a nice life.”

Scott’s view of Stiles seemed to fracture into a blurred vision, a bit like one of those toy kaleidoscopes. Stiles had had one when they were little, and had shared it with Scott, because it was the coolest thing imaginable aged four, and Scott had not had one. Scott blinked. He would not give Stiles the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

Stiles stared at Scott for a long time. He gave a twitch with his nose, an exasperated, angry intake of breath, and then stalked past Scott out into the hallway – without picking up the text book. Scott heard him stop, presumably debating whether to come back and collect the book. He slumped miserably onto his bed, dropping the bat that he had been holding loosely in his hand the whole time.  


From the hallway he heard Stiles tapping on his phone, and after a moment heard Stiles speaking.

“Derek, it’s me… I am going to have to cancel tonight.” A long pause. “Oh, God, don’t make this harder than it is… No that was NOT a pun… God you can be so immature at times.” Another lengthy pause. “Derek, I can’t. Scott is being stupid… no it IS unusual… may I remind you who came up with the plan to defeat Gerard and save your sorry werewolf butt? I need to sort him out, put him straight on a few things. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lengthy pause. “Really, Der, this is important.” Short pause. “I love you too”. 

Stiles came back into the room, putting his phone away as he did so. 

Scott looked up at Stiles, who was now standing over him as he sat on the bed. The angry red flush had gone from Stiles’s cheeks, and there was a certain softness in his eyes as he looked down at Scott. This was somewhat negated when he suddenly brought his hand up and clouted Scott around the back of the head. 

“Dumbass”

“Dude, what the hell?” Scott should have been able to stop Stiles hitting him before it happened, but he had not really been focusing.

“You really are an idiot at times, Scott. For someone so empathetic and nice, you need to get a lot more secure with your emotions. I am not going anywhere.”

Scott looked at Stiles with a hopeful expression.

“Oh, God, stop with the puppy eyes. You don’t need to do puppy eyes. Listen, dumbass, who was it who came over every day, almost every night, for a month when my mom…?” Stiles tailed off.

“I did.” Scott said in a subdued tone.

“Damn right you did. Who was it who stood by me before the ADHD was diagnosed, when I was driving my dad to the brink of a breakdown? Come to think of it who is it who checks I have had my Adderall on a regular basis even now?”

“Me”

Another clout to the head. A softer one this time.

“Yes, you, you dork. Have you ever made me feel guilty for the whole werewolf thing? I know you don’t want this, I know what it has done to you, and it was all my fault for leaving you out in the Preserve, for taking you out there in the first place. And you have never once so much as looked at me funny over that, far less yelled at me.”

“Stiles that was not…”

“Shut up. Stiles is talking. Who was it who put all of his own shit – which was pretty heavy stuff, I know - to one side to look after me after the whole Lydia-Jackson-Gerard nexus of pain? Who did I come out to, before anyone? Before my dad even? You, that’s who. And what did you do when I did come out? You did nothing. You asked me if I wanted to practice lacrosse like nothing had changed, and then halfway to the pitch hugged me so tight I got bruises.”

Stile was gesticulating at Scott.

“Prom. Remember the deal there? When I was freaking out because I was terrified I was not going to get a date for prom, because what guy would want to risk dating the newbie Sheriff’s son, particular someone who looks like me? That I was going to be the only guy without a date in the whole school” Stiles was pointing with each word to add emphasis. “What. Did. You. Do?” 

Scott shrugged.

“You said you would go as my date, and you would dance with me, if you could clear it with Allison so that she would share you a bit. And bless you, you did clear it with Allison, because she spent the best part of the next couple of months trying to fix me up with anyone so she could go with you exclusively.”

Scott looked up at that. 

“Do you think Allison still wants to go to prom with me?”

Another clout round the head, the left hand this time “So not the point I am making Scott. And I don’t know for sure, but yes I think she does. The point is that you were prepared to bail, or negotiate to sort of bail, on the love of your life because I was alone and felt scared and insecure about all the changes in my life and I needed someone and you were not going to let me sidle into that dance on my own.”

“But…”

“I swear to God Scott if you interrupt me again I am going to get a rolled up newspaper, and don’t think I am not prepared to hit you on the nose.”

Scott subsided.

“When you walked in on Derek and I kissing, which was our first kiss as you well know, what did you do? Well, you shouted quite a bit, but then you hugged me and you growled at Derek. And don’t think I don’t know what you said to him in that growl. Which was sweet and everything but not necessary. He is not going to hurt me.”

Stiles drew in a deep breath, and sat next to Scott on the end of the bed.

“So what the hell gave you the idea that I don’t need you, you doofus? Just because I have found someone, even someone as fantastic as Derek, does not mean I am going anywhere. I am your pack. If I can be friends with you this long, overcoming your frankly perverse refusal to watch any Star Wars movie ever, I think our friendship is going to stand the test of time. You are going to be the one making an awful, cringeworthy best man’s speech at some point far, far in the future after I get down on one knee and ask for his paw in marriage, because I am never going to make it to the altar if you don’t have my back. I am never going to make it to graduation if you don’t have my back” From his position by Scott’s side, Stiles began prodding for emphasis again. “You. Are. My. Best. Friend.” A pause. “You dork” Stiles added. He pulled Scott into a tight hug.

Scott felt a wave of relief flood over him, with a warm swirly sensation in his stomach. “Sorry Stiles” he muttered. “I was being an idiot, and selfish and.... And I am really happy that you are happy.” He paused. “With Derek.” 

Scott manfully bit back the “even” he had been going to say before that last bit.

“Oh, God you were totally going to say ‘even with Derek’ weren’t you?” Stiles knew him too well. Which was sort of the point. 

They hugged for a while before Scott said “So tell me about you and Derek.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. I want to know you are happy. Is everything going OK?”

The floodgates were opened.

“Everything is great. I didn’t want to talk about it because I know you are not always his biggest fan, but it is awesome. We haven’t had sex yet” Scott flinched a little “but last night we were making out, and there was friction – I think the technical term is ‘frottage’, at least if my online research is correct – and we both came in our jeans. Which was awesome. And damp.”

Scott felt he should have known better than to invite Stiles to talk without setting boundaries. “I… I did not really need to know that Stiles. Though I am glad, I guess, that things are going well.”

“Really well.”

“Yes.”

“Like really, really, really well. In a damp kind of a way.”

“Yes.” Scott paused. “I meant tell me about the important things, though.”

“Ah. Those.” Stiles loosened his grip on Scott a bit. “Those are going really well too. I get this sort of warm gooey feeling when I see him. I know it takes him exactly twelve minutes and forty seconds to run from his loft to my place in wolf mode. Fifteen minutes by car. Sixteen minutes thirty if the lights are against him at the corner of Jefferson. I know he is the only person, other than you, I can talk about my mum to. He says he can finally distinguish my scent from yours – they are really similar it seems, and now he can pick me out at five hundred yards. I know exactly what the Camaro sounds like when it is taking a corner too fast. I know my heart beats faster when I hear him climbing up outside my window. I know he trusts me completely, and I trust him completely, and… and I can’t imagine life without him.”

Stiles paused, breathing hard. There was silence for a few moments, before he began again quietly. “Which means I get why life sucks so much for you right now, Scott. But I know it will work out. You know it will work out. Allison knows it too.”

Scott sighed. “I guess.”

Stiles carried on. “If you ever tell her what I am going to tell you, then the rolled newspaper comes out for sure. She made me promise, and she backed up that promise with threats. And I have seen Allison with a crossbow. I am taking those threats seriously. But she asks me at least three times a week how you are doing, what is happening to you – not wolf happening, what is happening to you you.”

Scott grabbed Stiles by both shoulders, wrenching him round to look him in the face.

“Dude, you mean it? Like for real? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to be talking falsetto for the rest of my life. I have plans for my junk, involving Derek and his abs and his ass and… and well, let’s just say a lot of those plans would be compromised if Allison ever finds out that you know.”

Scott was staring glassy eyed into the middle distance.

Stiles pulled him into another hug. “I would have told you if I thought it would have made things easier earlier on. But I think you both need some space, and knowing from the start that she was asking all the time about you might not have helped help that. But you should instinctively know she loves you. As do I – which you should also know without being told all the time.”

Scott was choking up, but he got out a quiet “love you too bro”.

“Well of course you do. Stiles is a package of stupendousness. What is not to love?” . They sat for a while. 

“You are going to be a great werewolf, Scott.” 

Scott snorted.

“I am serious. Some are born great. Derek for instance. And Derek’s abs. And Derek’s ass.” An inarticulate sound of protest came from Scott. “Some achieve greatness – and that is you. I am so proud of what you are becoming, of what you are turning into.” Scott pushed against Stiles with his shoulder. “Seriously dude, I can see what you are doing with Isaac, the way you take on responsibility that no one should take on, how you help your mum. You are achieving greatness.” They sat in a companionable silence for a while longer. 

“And of course some have greatness thrust upon them. Which would have been what was happening to me last night.” 

“Dude!”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try and do something on the bromance with Scott feeling left out, and here it is. Not great - I think a bromance this epic requires more - but my laptop blew up on me and I did not have time to refine as much as I wanted.


End file.
